One Thousand Birds
Oxford's coat of arms
Place names can be very picturesque and convey an image, rightly of wrongly, of the place in question.
In Britain, for example, we have Oxford and the city;s coat of arms depict a Ox walking over water – fording a river. (It’s true that the full crest also has a Black Elephant, a green beaver and a panther … but, hey, the name is Oxford!).
Then we have have Newcastle … and not just one of them – there’s Newcastle upon Tyne and Newcastle under Lyme … and I always imagine that one being submerged or being buried underground).
We also have Sevenoaks and there really were seven oak trees until six of them were felled in the “great hurricane” of 1987.
Aukland in New Zealand has, (or rather had), its One Tree Hill; a 182-metre high volcanic peak which got its name because at the time the city was founded there was indeed just one tree on the summit. This got chopped down by a settler in 1852 and although there were several attempts to replace it they seemed almost doomed to failure as none seemed to take. However, the final blow came in 2000 when the last tree had to be felled after an attack by Maori activists and it has not been replaced.
Here in Kyrgyzstan we have On Archa – Ten Juniper Trees – which I pass every month on my way up to Naryn and back again … I have wondered about making a detour to stop and count the trees, but although I have been to the village I never did find them.
There are lots of other examples of descriptive names, like Ak Suu – White Water; Altyn Arashan – Golden Spring; At Bashi – Horses Head; Arpa – Barley; Djety Oguz – Seven Bulls; Issyk Kul – Warm Lake; Kara Balta – Black Axe; Karakol – Black Hand; Kara Suu – Black Water; Kyzyl Oi – Red Rocks; Saimaluu Tash – Painted Stones; Sary Tash – Yellow Stone; Tokmok – Hammer … and so on.
Two of my favourites are Sary Chelek – Yellow Bucket, and Min Kush – One Thousand Birds.
As it happens, although I have been in the neighbourhood, I have never actually been to either of them. Still, the names are evocative, the photographs are impressive and they are on my, as it were, “Bucket List”, (pun intended).
I have written about Sary Chelek, (and why it has this picturesque name), elsewhere … so what about Min Kush?
Apparently, there are legends about how the area was inhabited by a wide variety of different birds. There were so many, in fact, that when they took off they blocked out even the rays of the sun … although anyone who remembers the images in Alfred Hitchcock’s film The Birds might not think this sounds so appealing.
It seems, however, that there is another legend which tells how, a long time ago, a Kyrgyz warrior “stole” a beautiful Djungary girl, (which suggests that it was some sometime in the sixteenth century as the Djungarsky Khanate dates from this time), and married her. The girl caught and tamed bird and, longing for home, she sent a bird carrying a note with their whereabouts. After receiving the message, the Djhungary attacked the Kyrgyz and there was a bloody massacre which claimed many lives on both sides. The Kyrgyz retreated and reached the heights of Tastar-Ata and many soldiers where to die in their defence of this redoubt. All of the dead were buried on a ridge near the mazar Tastar-Ata amd this area became known as the “Bird of Sadness” (Munduu-Kush). Gradually, this name was reduced to a moon-Kush, and eventually turned into Min-Kush.
For the record: there is another interpretation of the name – Min Kuush, as opposed to Min Kush … yes, I have trouble telling the difference too. It seems that Kuush means “narrow” and, in this version, the locale was named Min Kuush because the area has a lot of narrow canyons and Crevices … hence the name “A Thousand Narrows”.
The town is 420 kilometers from Bishkek – about 10 hours away – in the Djumgal district of the Naryn oblast … but it is up a cul de sac – off the “main road” between Kochkor and Suusamyr – which, although it’s a pretty impressive route, is hardly a major highway. The turn-off is in the village of Aral, at one end of the bridge over the Kekemeren River.
From there, the road heads South, along the banks of the Kekemeren River before turning East again and into the mountains, on difficult roads which haven’t been repaired in years, along the banks of the Min Kush River through what I am told is spectacular scenery … two hours from the nearest community from which it is sometimes cut off as landslides block the dirt road.
Spectacular – but at a cost … if, elsewhere in Kyrgyzstan, the cry is that “there’s gold in them there hills”, here it would be “there’s uranium in them there hills”. I don’t know if it is true, but it’s said that you can find every element of the Mendelev Periodic Table of Elements somewhere in Kyrgyzstan … and Uranium, (a silvery-white metallic chemical element, with symbol U and atomic number 92), was discovered in the hillsides around Min Kush in the 1950′s.
During the Soviet period, the Uranium was mined and a prosperous mining settlement was established in the valley, in 1953. It is often quoted, with pride, that uranium from Min Kush was used in the first space rockets … but not so often acknowledged that another first was that it was also Min Kush uranium that was used in the first Soviet atomic bomb,
It was quite a thriving community and was known as “Little Moscow”.
It was, however, a restricted area, apparently not marked on maps and special permits were needed to go there.
For the record: because it counts as a high mountain region and of special strategic importance, employees of the mine were well paid and benefited from many special concessions … among them were higher salaries (according to one report, two and a half times higher than the national average), extensive social services, and guaranteed early retirement. The store was apparently famous throughout the republic – its shelves laden with imported fruit, a large selection of shoes and jewelry.
If it is true, then its hardly surprising that there was a waiting list of applicants looking for a job in the mine.
According to the 1959 census Min Kush had a population of 10,000 people – mostly ethnic Russians and Germans – rising to 20,000 in the 1960′s. Today, although there are technically something like 7000 people registered with the authorities as residents, there are just about 3500 living there. Most of them are older people – pensioners who once worked at the Uranium mine. The rest have gone in search of work elsewhere.
The mine has now closed, many of the buildings deserted or dismantled, (sold as scrap or even as bricks), many of the residents have left looking for jobs elsewhere, according to a recent interview with one of the residents, there hasn’t been a wedding toi,(wedding reception), in the settlement since the collapse of the Soviet Union.
As well as the mine there was also a factory that produced crayons, (coloured pencils), and felt tip pens. There’s also a coal mine and other minerals have been found nearby, but at the moment it probably not economically viable to mine for them. It seems that there has been an attempt to start new businesses – but according to some reports 70% of the population are said to be unemployed and one on the site of the official news agency reported that only 100 people have jobs – the rest relying on pensions and state benefits.
According to one report, all that operated in the “city” nowadays are the hospitals – four doctors who can provide basic First Aid and there is no ambulance – and the schools – but there are few resources for, for example, new texbooks. The settlement does not have a theater, there is no newspaper, no radio. In another report a resident states, “We have no hot water water, no heating” … and a bit plaintively, “we have nowhere to go.” Even the once separate Russian (Orthodox) and Kyrgyz (Muslim) cemeteries have been merged.
One of its interesting claims to fame, however, is that Min Kush apparently has a Bandy club … but I wonder how many games they get play in a season?
For the record: Bandy is a version of hockey – played on ice, but like field hockey is played outdoors with a larger team (11 players) and a ball instead of a puck. (In Russian it is known as “Hockey with a Ball”).
Some sources seem to suggest that the game originated in England, but this isn’t clear and if this is true then it seems to have disappeared from it’s native land sometime before the first world war. It is also considered to have been an “ancestor” of Ice Hockey – created (or, at least, codified) in North America in the nineteenth century, but – once again – this isn’t clear.
Bandy is still played in about fifteen different countries including Belorus, Canada, Estonia, Finland, Hungary, India, Italy, Kazakhstan, Mongolia, Netherlands, Norway, Russia, Sweden, the USA … and Kyrgyzstan, which has recently established a Bandy Association and were planning to participate in the 2006 World Championships in Sweden, organized by the Federation of International Bandy.
There are hopes that one day it will become an Olympic sport – it was a demonstration sport at the 1952 Winter Games in Oslo.
Unfortunately, as I said, I have never been to Min Kush and so I don’t have any photographs and I can’t find any in the public domain … but I did find this clip of a news item from Azattyk ünalgysy, (the Kyrgyz language service of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty – an international multimedia, news and broadcast org), on youtube – it’s in Kyrgyz but I think, (hope), that, given the background information above, it will give you a feel for the place, the people – and the hardships of their life:
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YcBUCMECOg
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Bishkek